Why I am writing something each day
As someone who spends their days manipulating things onscreen, I can go weeks without picking up a pen and physically writing something down. Typography plays a huge role in my work, but my own lettering is without purpose. Long ago I switched out pen and ink for the digital stylus, which transforms my careless loops and strokes into smooth paths. Creating logos, patterns, and shapes is a crucial part of the work designers do, but when I put the stylus down, my own writing has deteriorated.
Sitting down to pen a handwritten letter to someone recently, I was ashamed of how it looked. The sentiments I had put down were totally undermined by my barbaric longhand. The experience — of writing the letter, and reading it — was tarred by the sheer mess of the thing.
We all remember learning cursive in primary school, tracing the contours of the alphabet and struggling to build up the fluidity and gestural patterns required to structure the shapes of the letters. As a lefty, I would wind up with ink stains smudged up my arm and on my sleeve, but I loved writing. I was one of those kids who wanted to say too much too quickly so I started rushing, forcing my handwriting to become sloppy. I had to will myself to slow down and finish each letter, gradually building muscle memory.
Now, my kids are learning to write. I see their hyperfocused attempts to trace the example letters and recognize what a unique skill it is. In their work, I see little quirks, their own individual styles developing. Despite the proliferation of “handwritten” fonts in online libraries, nothing comes close to the real thing. Design is recognizing this. Personality and empathy are central to consultations with the client; mood boards capture what we can’t necessarily put into words.
I have friends and relatives whose professions still rely heavily on writing on a daily basis. Teachers and professors, they produce elegant glyphs with perfect baselines and flowing curves. It’s a skill I once took for granted that has since slipped from my routine under a crush of engineered “solutions.”
Email, Slack chats and IMs are cheap. A handwritten note is much more powerful. I have realized that for me personally, as someone who believes in the complexity of visual language and the expressive power it holds, being able to communicate well through writing is something I don’t want to lose.
I read somewhere that once a person learns to write, certain gestures and letter forms stay with them like a blueprint. No matter how much they try and change, they will always fall back to those learned patterns.
Something I talk about often with my design team, many of whom have been using screens from a much earlier age than me, is the value of bringing personality in to their work. I want them to retain the ability to write a graceful note, to express themselves in ink, because handwriting is an art form we should cherish and not allow ourselves to so easily forget it’s beauty.
I’ve begun to set aside time each day to write. Covering multiple pages in my slowly improving scrawl can still give me those old school arm cramps, but I’m building up the muscles. I have hope that the nice flowing cursive I once knew will one day resurface.
Digital designers, write every day. Don’t lose the art!
